


Making it work

by PurpleArcher



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Rare Pairings, Uncommon Pairing, bastard child of my brain, unusual pairing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:54:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29972142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArcher/pseuds/PurpleArcher
Summary: arranged marriages suck. Mia and Harry have to see if they can make it work despite everything going against them.cross posting on ffn
Relationships: Harry Potter/Mia Thermopolis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Making it work

“He has to be someone titled!” Queen Clarisse exclaimed, frustration beginning to edge into her voice as the myriad of ‘eligible’ bachelors slides clicked past. ”Someone who can help you run a country without ego getting in the way...” she paced around the screening room as she spoke, hands clasped firmly together to keep them from fidgeting. “Someone smart, attractive...” she settled next to Joe, leaning against the chair that she had recently vacated. “Someone with compassion!”

“Someone like him?” Mia asked softly, eyes glued to the screen as she nervously chewed on the edge of the file folder that she had been given. The portrait depicted a lean man with tousled black hair. He was nice enough to look at, but what really captured Mia’s attention was his eyes. They were the most vibrant green she had ever seen. And even through the low quality of the projector they seemed to stare right through to her soul. 

Mia fought back a blush as she imagined those intense eyes staring back at her. He was only 5’10” according to his profile. In heels she would be the same height. She had always enjoyed being eye level to those she spoke to. Give her more power when they tried to speak down at her. 

How would he react to her wit? She wondered to herself. Would his eyes glow with excitement as they verbally sparred? Would they shine with pride as he watched her take the men in parliament down a few pegs? Would they gleam with intense passion as she kissed him… 

Mia shook her head slightly to dislodge the fantasy she had created in her mind. She didn’t know the man yet. For all she knew he could have the personality of wet cardboard just like the members of parliament who forced her into this situation. 

No. Mia resolved then and there to save that part of her mind for after she had met him. Better to meet him with a blank slate. If she had no expectations she couldn’t be disappointed… right? 

Clarisse sighed as she took in the profile on the screen. 

Sir Hadrian Potter. Only a couple years older than Mia. A minor peer of the realm. No land holdings beyond family estates, but a decent amount of wealth. The last of his line. Not ideal for if he wanted to continue his name. However he had been knighted as well. Fighting for his country and protecting his homeland. No additional details. Deciphering that political code meant that he had fought to prevent some sort of terrorist threat on his home soil, and that it had been covered up as best as possible. There was no news about any incidents post knighthood ceremony, therefore he must be a relatively private person with no interest in seeking glory or attention for his accomplishments. Either that or Her Majesty of England ordered it silenced. Either way it reflected well on young Hadrian. He was willing to fight for others but also willing to step back and let others have the spotlight. 

And for Mia, who needed a consort to sit back and let her rule, he was perfect. 

“Yes Mia,” the queen said, a smile stretching across her laugh lined face. “Exactly the kind of man we’re looking for”

The next week was a flurry of activity as the palace prepared for the special guest to arrive, and right at home amongst the chaos was Nicholas Devereaux. 

Nicholas scoffed as various maids and servants scurried back and forth past the niche in which he was pretending to read. 

‘All this work for a minor noble from a foreign country,’ he thought to himself and flicked to the next page of his unread book. One of the younger maids scurried past, her arms full of linens for the guest room. She blushed as he caught her eye and gave her a cocky half smile over his book. ‘Too bad all this effort will be wasted. Uncle was right. She will be weak. So ready to drop everything and disturb everyone around her for a pretty face.’

He leaned his head against the cool stone wall behind him and watched Mia’s personal maids marching past, whispering to each other conspiratorially. Brigitte and Brigitta. The pair were inseparable, unflappable, and dangerous to what Nicholas was planning. 

“The maids know everything,” Nicholas whispered to himself as he watched the pair scurry off to complete the errand they had been sent on. “Perhaps if I can get some of them on my side…”

“You’ve got to be joking mate!” Ronald Weasley slammed the door as he let himself into the newly refurbished Potter Manor. “You mean to tell me and Hermione that you’re leaving to go marry a foreign woman through a  _ letter _ ? Not even mentioning it last time we talked, let alone bothering to visit before you go.”

“Good morning to you too Ron,” Harry replied calmly, putting down his mug of tea and the papers that he had been sent. “I’m just having breakfast. Would you care to join me?”

“Of course,” Ron replied coolly, recognizing Harry's tone from when he dealt with the Wizengamot after deposing Voldemort. “So you care to explain what the bloody hell is going through your mind?”

Harry pushed his glasses up and rubbed at his eyes in an exhausted fashion. “I was sent a formal request the day before yesterday,” he stated, firmly replacing his glasses upon the bridge of his nose. “It was from the Renaldi Family in a small country called Genovia. They have formally asked if I would be willing to court the Family’s heir.”

“You’ve always rejected marriage contracts before,” Ron started slowly, carefully cradling the mug of tea Dobby had placed on the table for him. “What makes this one so different?”

“For one thing, they addressed it to me as Sir Potter. Nobody in the magical realm acknowledges my muggle knighthood. Secondly, included with the formal request was a personal note from the current family head. She was very careful to make sure that I know that despite the political pressure being put on her heir to be married, this was truly only a courting contract. She cares for her heir very much and above all is looking to make sure that Miss Mia is happy with her future partner, as well as being able to do what is expected of the gentry.”

“You’re being deliberately vague,” Ron complained. He was never one to pay attention to anything beyond his somewhat narrow view of the world.

“They have asked my discretion when talking about this beyond those in the know already,” Harry rolled his eyes at his friend’s deliberate obtuseness. “They’re muggle. High rank in their country, thus the political pressure to have the heir marry. Despite that they still want the heir, and consequently, me, to have a choice in this. The family’s priorities lie in their heir’s freedom and happiness.”

“So it’s not a guaranteed thing?”

“No. We have a month to truly get to know each other and decide if it’s something we could live with.”

“A month?” Ron spluttered an coughed, having just taken a sip of the tea. “You’ve got to be joking mate! That’s barely enough time to get to know a person let alone marry them!”

“I agree it’s rather short notice,” Harry sighed, blotting at the tea stains Ron had just splattered all over the table and his shirt. “However I’ve read up on the situation and looked into the family in question. They’re being put into a rather bollox situation-“

“I see what’s going on,” Ron groaned, interrupting Harry’s explanation. “This is your bloody saving people thing again.”

“No it’s not!” Harry grumbled and deliberately took a swig of tea to hide his slightly flushed cheeks. 

“Oh yeah it is,” Ron was grinning now. “And you’ve never been the sort to leave a pretty bird in a bind. So you got a picture? I assume you must if they’re asking you to marry her.”

“Oh shove off mate,” Harry muttered into his mug as he downed the last of the contents. 

“Come off it mate,” Ron prodded gleefully. Being the youngest boy he had learned how to annoy his siblings just enough that they would do what he wanted, without pushing them off the edge. It was an art. One he excelled at. “Let’s see the pretty birdie who’s stealing my best friend away. Don’t make me bring Hermione over. You know she’s on bed rest and rather cranky at the moment. Hugo hasn’t been sleeping well either. You know how newborns are.”

Harry groaned and dropped his head to the table in front of him. “Dobby!” Harry called. 

Dobby appeared with a pop. “Yes mister Harry Potter sir!”

“Could you get the file from my desk for me please? The green one that smells like pears.”

Dobby nodded and disappeared with a pop, reappearing mere moments later with a thin light green file folder that did indeed smell of pears. Dobby handed the folder to Harry and bowed deeply before disappearing with another pop. 

“Pears?” Ron asked skeptically. 

“Apparently it’s a Genovian specialty,” Harry said, resigned to his fate as he opened the file folder and extracted a small portrait. He looked at it for a moment before sighing and sliding it across the table. 

Ron took the picture gleefully and almost choked. “Bloody hell mate!”

“I know.”

“No bloody wonder you’re accepting this with a bird like that!”

“Don’t let Hermione hear you say that.”

“Obviously I won the lottery to have Hermione, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate that you’re scoring big with this one!”

“Ron you’re so crass. How on earth does ‘Mione stand you?”

“She likes how crass I can be…” Ron waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Got it. You’ve got two kids already I don’t need to know any more than that.”

“Damn right you don’t,” Ron laughed as he finished his tea. “So a month. When are you leaving then? It’s gotta be soon.” 

Harry checked his watch and stood up from the table. “My flight is in 2 hours. So if you’ll excuse me, I have to double check my packing. Make sure that what I’m bringing is appropriate for both the climate and the company.”

“Two hours? What the hell-“

“I’m sure you have work to see to. Or perhaps your wife? Either way Dobby will see you out. Don’t worry mate. I’ll be sure to write!” 

And with that, Harry swept out of the kitchen, leaving a spluttering Ron to be chivvied through the fire place by an over eager house elf. 


End file.
